


In the Making Of

by Tsuukai



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Author's Shamelessness, M/M, There's A Tag For That, There's a Farm Involved, Tigerman, rapunzel - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-01
Updated: 2014-07-01
Packaged: 2018-02-06 20:47:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,623
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1871922
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tsuukai/pseuds/Tsuukai
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It was so awkward, finding the leg dangling in the small window, waving about as if stuck, and not knowing what other course to take, he edged closer to the run-down silo. He made sure that his boots did not make so much noise (the other person’s muffled cursing was doing enough) while crunching down on the wheat splattered around the construction. He glanced at the still careening foot, followed the appendage pass the exposed thigh and—he just was not expecting this. “What, pray tell, are you doing?”</p>
            </blockquote>





	In the Making Of

**Author's Note:**

> A little humour in a situation that is actually very very scary (minus the artistic licence).
> 
> Beware of crazy people and their fantasies. Oh, and swearing.

When Taiga woke up, he was not expecting to find himself in the middle of a run-down farm, tucked firmly in between hay bales, and definitely not half naked. Granted, half-naked was stretching the imagination, but he was without the shirt he knew he had worn over the black v-neck t-shirt he thankfully still had on, his heavy-soled boots were missing leaving his socks, and his pants knees down were gone. Like, shredded to an inch of its material life, gone. He checked his pockets, finding no wallet, keys or his phone, and then started to dread.

Taiga roused himself, almost choking, when he felt some cloth around his neck tighten at the movement. He was almost expecting a noose when he reached for it, only to be gobsmacked at it extending down to what appeared to be a cloak. Confused, he left it, and moved again. He gingerly sat up more to see around him clearly. It was still dark, and only a few odd shapes could be seen from where he was sat, knowing it would take a while for him to adjust, so he patted the surrounding space to feel around him. Maybe a torch lying innocently nearby would be a lucky streak.

Instead, a few hundred meters away, a soft white light brightened the area and Taiga could see the farm house proper, and two figures run around. Thinking it may be the property owners, Taiga decided to get off the truck. On standing, his socked-feet kicked a heavy item on the floor, so he crouched and felt for it, immediately thanking the gods that he had found his boots. Quickly, so as to waste less time finding out how he got himself here rather than one of those outback bars a few of his friends, sans Kise (that model was _not_ a friend when he found himself in situations like this), that they had been hopping from. He vaguely remembers being in the third bar, having a drink way past his tolerance. Peeved, he could only blame himself for not taking precaution and landing…wherever the hell he was standing.

Deciding to make his way to where the figures he saw run, Taiga’s eyes acclimatised to the darkness of the moonless night. The dull lights from the farm house managed to light the structure but nothing else, and he could not even see if there was a barn with a barn light on. What little he knew from visiting a farm in California, was far from what he recognised here.

He continued on, tripping over random items when he neared them, edging around in foreign territory as the idea that he was either kidnapped or abandoned took over his mind. It was much safer to assume the worse, he opinionated, hearing distinct shuffling noises and voices, but could not tell what was being said or why there were so many odd sounds. When the shuffling receded, Taiga slunk closer to where he assumed the voices came from, hoping beyond reason it was one of his friends, sans Kise because he was feeling miffed still. When he did finally see the blond, he thought he would rather prefer him dead; it would save him the trouble and the life sentence.

Taiga glanced about him then; an awkward series of sounds tickled his senses, forcing him to near it and discover exactly what was making it. Being awkward should not be scary, he reminded himself, rounding the hay bales he was using as cover, where he could see a short silo tower just a hundred meters away with a series of small windows running down the length facing him. There was movement just at its lowest window, and taking heed, neared it. To find a pale skinned, exposed leg.

It was so awkward, finding the leg dangling in the small window, waving about as if stuck, and not knowing what other course to take, he edged closer to the rundown silo. He made sure that his boots did not make so much noise (the other person’s muffled cursing was doing enough) while crunching down on the wheat splattered around the construction. He glanced at the still careening foot, followed the appendage pass the exposed thigh and—he just was not expecting this. “What, pray tell, are you _doing_?”

The leg froze in action, the constant breeze it created with each powerful kick dropped down and Nature’s own air currents now cooled his own bare calves. Taiga tried with his utmost being to not stare at the exposed crouch before him, instead at the panicked wide amber eyes of one Kise Ryouta. At least he had found one of his companions from their night out.

“Kagamicchi!” the tone sounded so exuberant and relieved, and it made him feel all the more like a swine for thinking unkind things through the whole evening they had spent hopping from one bar to another in the small village. Wherever that was now. “Thank god!”

“And?” he asked, leaning further into the small space provided by the window, “What are you doing, swimming in the grain?”

Kise grunted, and scoffed at his comment, pulling back his leg but not managing to do much. The angle he was at made it neigh impossible to comfortably settle himself on the dunes the grains created inside the silo tower. “I was trying to get out, but,” he struggled some more, “I just can’t seem to move!”

Taiga sighed. “Okay, okay, just calm down. Was wondering what the hell happened for me to wake up in a truck, you know?” He grasped around the ankle of the exposed leg with his right arm, reaching into the window with his left to hold Kise’s arm, and pushed the appendage through the opening. With a thump, Kise was standing almost a head shorter than Taiga was at the moment. Kise smiled in thanks, then started to dust his clothes. Which brought about another question. “The fuck are you wearing?”

Kise scowled, and it appeared that this was going to be the theme of the night, because the blond snapped at him with “I don’t know, some despicable rotting old coot’s idea of fashion!” the other started ranting then. “When I woke up, there was this big lungering oaf stripping me down and tying my hands together, saying some stupid things and pulling this piece of shit on me, and I don’t know what he was thinking. But I kicked him hard and he was hurt badly enough I guess, and I was running out, but he was following me, and I didn’t know where you or anyone else was, Kagamicchi, and it was horrible, I couldn’t see, and and he was right behind me then, and he chased me with this chain—” here Kise paused in his ramblings long enough to dangle the prop he was mentioning in his story, throwing it behind him in disgust before he continued on undeterred, “—and I thought if only I could hide somewhere, but there was nothing around that opened! Then he got this huge pitchfork and cornered me into this tower like I’m Rapunzel or something like that and—”

Feeling as though they would never actually get to escape this so-called oaf, Taiga raised his hands in a pacifying gesture, although it was ignored. Kise raised his hands up at Taiga’s face though with a request: “Pull me out already. I want to leave this place.”

“Yea, sure,” and not being able to help it, snickered, “We can probably parade in our costumes for the old man.” In English, he sung, “Rapunzel, Rapunzel, let down your hair.” Taiga thought it was absolutely hilarious that Kise also had blond locks, and with his new style, due to the humidity in the silo, the locks curled around the edges of his face making him appear even more feminine than his stylists probably  meant for it to look.

“He said I look like his _wife_!” the blond snapped at him, glaring through the little window of the silo, hands gripping the edges so tightly, Taiga was amazed that the bones of his knuckles did not tear through the pale skin. Instead he tried to concentrate on pulling the other up and through the window, wherein the next few minutes, staring at him, he failed to keep the gruff laugh in his chest.

“I wonder why,” he mused, turning his sight to the side. Now before him stood Kise, in a dress that had probably seen better summers twenty years ago, of which straps fell off his shoulders, laced up boots to his shins, and a red scarf-like material wrapped around his waist like an obi with a large bow ensemble. If it were not for his flat chest, Kise really looked like some farmer’s wife who was huffing and puffing at his gallivanting nature. A cool summer night breeze caught the willowing wisps of his longer bangs, and Taiga watched them flutter around.

Kise started to vent something he was not paying attention to, instead burning the memory of this sight (so that maybe he could use it to shut him up faster), but the shuffling he heard earlier started up again. This time, however, it was closer than before, and faster; no sooner than that registered, Taiga realised it was footsteps, and with the awkward rhythm, it was the farmer he had knocked out earlier.

“C’mon, let’s get going!” he hissed at Kise, who for once pursed his lips, narrow eyes narrowing further as he nodded and made to follow him. They crouched as they ran the length of the barn, ducking behind hay bales stacked in a row outside, trying to be as quiet as they could possibly get without losing out on speed. The faster they reached an escape route, the faster they could breathe in relief.

Taiga lead the way to the truck he had woken up in, making his path to the driver’s door this time, shuffling in and hoping the owner left the key inside. Kise entered the passenger side, a hurried expression pasted firmly on his face. Taiga ignored him to look for the key in the truck—just in case, seeing as it was not in the ignition—rummaging through the pile of flyers and bills littering the gear box area. “Um, Kagamicchi,” Kise started, a whiny huff in his voice, “I don’t mean to rush you, but you should hurry up.”

“Yea?” he snapped back, “I don’t see you doing anything to conjure the keys to this fucking truck!”

Kise scowled at him, his attention reverted at him from his vigilance out the window. “What? Why can’t you just hotwire the car? You’re an American, right?! Shouldn’t you know how to?!”

“What?” he retorted, “Is hotwiring a car supposed to be a requirement for being American?!” he reached under the wheel despite his words, huffing out rudely, “And I’m fucking Japanese! Get that through your thick skull already!”

“Then stop speaking to me in English, you idiot!” the other roared at him. Taiga paused, glancing over his shoulder at the panting mess of a man, despite current appearances.

“…Oh, sorry. Didn’t realise,” he said, and remaining silent in the next few seconds, he successfully got the truck started. “I’m going to jail for this.”

“No you won’t!” Kise snapped at him again. “Stop being a baby. We’re not joyriding, and the police will understand when we tell them what happened.” As Taiga pressed the accelerator harshly against the floor of the truck, he tried to remember how he was supposed to control the manual transmission; it had been ages since he had been in one, and he was not too sure they would even reach a functioning police station if he considered the state of the truck they just stole for their escape.

“This is the last time I let you rope me into bar hopping,” Taiga announced, heart slowing down in his ribcage, not even realising that is was thudding so fiercely, “I’m never doing that again.”

“You and me both,” his companion muttered dispassionately, crossing his bare arms across his flat chest. “And give me that cloak you’re wearing around your neck, Tigerman, because I sure as hell not walking into a station dressed like this.”

Taiga laughed, remembering the cloak and Kise’s state of attire. “Right,” he suddenly remembered, snapping his fingers. From the rear-view mirror, the farm was but a spec in the reflection, and so he settled down on the springy, soft seat in relief; “You owe me a reward as a damsel.”

“Shut up,” Kise muttered, not wanting to play along. It seemed as if he was still shaken up even if he was not showing it. “We would have been caught if I didn’t remind you of your Americanisms.”

“You,” he growled, “are sounding more and more racist as we spend time together. Maybe, since I’m so _American_ as you put it, I should demand your body as payment or something.” Taiga’s relative ‘safe’ mood plummeted and he could not help but grouse at Kise for being the way he was, hunched up and wallowing, even though he knew it might have been a far harrowing experience to Kise—being a model and all that—than it was for him, who had not been stripped and maybe inappropriately touched while being redressed according to the insane captor’s fancies. As he thought about it, he realised how much worse it could have been if he had not woken up, stumbled upon Kise’s leg-out-the-silo signal, and subsequently saved both their asses.

Peeved at his own insensitivity, he mumbled out an apology that made Kise start on hearing it. Instead of any of the scenarios playing out in his mind, Taiga was surprised when long arms wrapped around his shoulders and a heavy head settled into the crook of his neck and shoulder. Kise squeezed his shoulders slightly then laid them loose, but did not move away. Taiga sighed, tilting his head to rest a cheek on the blond tuff. “It’ll be okay,” he decided on saying, unsure though if he had any place to really comfort the other. But he wanted to try, and hope anything he said would make Kise comfortable and not the frenzied being he saw a few seconds back.

“You’re right,” the man mumbled, soft lips against his collar bone, warm moist air heating his skin there. They sent tingles down his spine so he clutched the steering wheel tighter than necessary but did not move away from the contact. “I’ll be fine soon enough, _and_ I owe you a reward, my saviour,” and saying so, Kise pressed closed lips against his throat.

Taiga chuckled at the action, and thinking his reward was over, jerked in surprise when Kise moved further up on his neck to place a series of kisses along his Adam’s apple, under his jaw, as well as his cheek, before, staring him straight in the eye, kissed him on the lips. The truck, in response, swerved dangerously along the empty road that seemed to go on forever, and after some serious herculean manoeuvers, set the path right. “Are you trying to get us killed?!” he snapped at the blond who had moved back into his seat, chuckling at Taiga’s attitude.

“Sorry, sorry,” he apologised in his usual affable posture, wide smile and winking eyes, “It’s just so easy to tease you, Kagamicchi.”

Taiga growled, turning back to face the road, setting his mind into not paying attention to the other for as long as they were stuck in the middle of nowhere. Which brought him to his next dilemma—“Where the fuck are we?”

**Author's Note:**

> Whenever I think KagaKi, I think about the mess they will get into. To me, it's a crack pairing (though I love them both!) and so, I have these weird itches to write these scenarios.
> 
> Reviews and comments are appreciated! :D


End file.
